


Not Forgotten

by Angelise (angelise7)



Series: Never Forgotten [1]
Category: NCIS
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, M/M, Mention of past relationship for DiNozzo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-09
Updated: 2014-11-09
Packaged: 2018-02-24 17:56:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2590853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelise7/pseuds/Angelise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony calls in sick four days in a row, and Gibbs stops by to see why.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> In honor of Veteran's Day next week, I thought I would dust off this early work (2007). And yes, I realize chapter two takes place on Memorial Day, but it was written in support of our men and women who have served and are currently serving our great country here at home and around the world. We salute you all!

"Gibbs."

Jethro hit the speakerphone button on his cordless before slipping on his belt and jacket.

"Gibbs, it's Kate. Just thought I'd let you know Tony's called in sick again."

"And?"

Jethro bent down beside his bed and unlocked the safe that housed his gun and ammo. He could hear the concern in his colleague's voice but couldn't quite fathom why she was calling him at home to tell him about DiNozzo. "Spit it out, Kate. What couldn't wait 'til I got to the office?"

"Sorry. Didn't mean to disturb you."

Slipping his weapon into its holster and clipping it to his belt, Jethro rose to his feet and let out a grunt of frustration when he found the coffee mug that he had brought to bed last night was empty. "It's a little late for an apology, Kate. Just tell me what's wrong." Kate's sigh of exasperation was clearly audible, and he chose to ignore it. "Kate!"

The woman's reply was quick, crisp and to the point, and Jethro could almost imagine her saluting as she gave it. "This is the fourth day, sir," she said.

Jethro stopped collecting the various mugs littering his bedroom and glared at the phone. "Four days? Are you sure about that? I thought it was only two."

"No, sir. Tony was also out the two days you and Director Morrow were up on the Hill."

Pausing long enough to enter the bathroom and dump all the mugs in the sink, Jethro reflected on the last time he had seen the ex-cop. It was the evening before he’d left to go to D.C., and as far as he could recall, DiNozzo had looked and acted just fine.

Too fine, in fact.

His new lover had distracted him in such a way that he’d barely had enough time to pack his briefcase and catch a couple of hours of sleep before the alarm went off at 0400. Not to mention, his well-fucked ass was none too happy about the bumpy ride into D.C. and the hard chair it was forced to occupy during the endless round of meetings.

"I'll be top dog next time, DiNozzo," he whispered, a predatory smile appearing briefly on his face.

Despite his fierce adherence to Rule Number Twelve since joining NCIS, Jethro had finally succumbed to the hunger that had plagued him from the moment Anthony DiNozzo was assigned to his team. The young man with the boyish charm and quick wit had wormed his way into Jethro's heart, and after two years of total abstinence, his resolve crumbled during an all-nighter with his team recently.

One finished canvasing the crime scene Tony had sneakily arranged for Kate to travel back with Ducky. He then proceeded to flirt openly with Jethro during the return trip to HQ, leaving no doubt as to his interest in his superior. Jethro had valiantly held onto his control but once faced with pouting lips and puppy dog ‘shame you into anything I want’ eyes, all bets were off. Slamming on the brakes which nearly sent Tony and his devastatingly movie-star handsome face (his description, not Jethro’s) into the front windshield, Jethro had laid one on the man, thus nullifying Rule Number Twelve. The very second the case was solved, he had taken Tony to bed and claimed him as his own.

That had been four weeks ago, and because their workload had increased tenfold in the past two weeks, not to mention the mandatory meetings with the Brass, Jethro had, unfortunately, spent very little downtime with Tony.

He gazed at his reflection in the mirror and frowned. Why in the hell hadn't Tony contacted him personally about being sick? Was it because, he, himself, hadn't taken the time to check in with his new lover - and if he had shown some interest in the younger man's well-being, would it have been Tony's voice on the phone and not Kate's?

"Gibbs, are you there?"

Exiting the bathroom, he collected his wallet, badge and cellphone and slipped them into the pockets of his jacket and slacks. "What illness does DiNozzo claim to be suffering with?"

"That's just it. He hasn't said a word about what's wrong with him. Just says he’s not coming in."

Jethro found his curiosity aroused by the tone of Kate's voice. "What aren't you telling me?"

"He sounds awful," Kate confessed. "And I don't mean awful as in deathly ill awful. He sounds like he's heartsick."

"Heartsick? What the hell does that mean?" Locating his new Palm Pilot, Jethro checked his schedule before asking his next question, "And you're telling me this because?" A feeling of unease settled down upon him, and he instantly knew he was not going to like Kate's answer.

"Gibbs, I'm a profiler. I've been trained to notice things."

Well, crap.

Running his hand through his graying hair, Jethro took a seat on the edge of his bed and stared blindly at the bare wall in front of him. "Will it be necessary for me to ask that you keep your observations on this particular matter private?"

It wasn't so much for himself that he insisted upon Kate's silence - he had put in his time with the military and could easily retire if need be so. Tony was his main concern, and he would do whatever was necessary to guarantee the agent’s reputation remain unblemished.

"Kate, do I have your word that you'll . . ."

"What you do behind closed doors is your business," Kate interrupted him. "I called because I'm concerned about Tony, and thought, that since you're his supervisor, you might want to check up on him."

"Watch it, Agent Todd." Pinching the bridge of his nose, Jethro inhaled deeply before ending the conversation with a brusque, "I'll stop by his apartment on my way in to work. Thanks."

"You're wel…."

Leaning forward, he snapped off the cordless and took a moment to again review the day's schedule. If he skipped his morning stop for coffee, he could run by DiNozzo's, spend a few minutes with him and still get to work on time. Glancing down at himself, Jethro was surprised to feel a certain heat building in his groin at the thought of seeing his lover.

Screw being on time. He was definitely going to need some java.

 

+++++++

 

Savoring the last sip of his coffee, Jethro stepped up to DiNozzo's front door and closely examined the brass door knocker. From the way it was hanging by only one screw, it was obvious that someone had seriously tried to yank it off the door. Dangling from the handle itself was a torn piece of faded ribbon and Jethro had trouble deciphering its original color.

"Wonder what idiot did this?" he questioned the closed door as he banged hard on its surface. Minutes passed and suddenly he grew overly concerned. The visible vandalism, along with the prolonged length of time it was taking DiNozzo to answer the door threw his senses into high alert and he, without thinking, reached for his gun. He was easing it free of its holster when the door swung open and Tony staggered out.

"Boss? You’re here! Why are you here?” Tony took on a look of confusion. “Something wrong?"

"I do believe that's a question I should be asking you."

Jethro frowned as he took in DiNozzo's disheveled appearance - the uncombed hair, the stubble-covered cheeks, the bloodshot eyes, not to mention the distinctive odor of alcohol that clung to his sloppily-clad physique. Anger surpassed concern, and he took a step forward, crowding Tony slightly while demanding, "What the hell is going on, DiNozzo? Kate reported you called in sick again. Doesn't look like you're sick to me. More like you're nursing a hangover."

Snatching the crushed coffee cup from his hand, Tony mimicked him and invaded his personal space, appearing more than ready to dispute the accusations but something caused him to rethink his decision. With a dismissive wave of his hand, he turned away and walked back inside his apartment.

More than slightly aggravated, Jethro was seriously contemplating leaving and putting his insolent lover on report but the reflection of pain in Tony's eyes pulled him up short. He had seen that look before. Hell, he had worn that look himself in the past on far too many occasions and knew exactly what it meant.

Tony was in mourning, and Jethro needed to know the reason why.

Cautiously entering the poorly lit apartment, he masked his surprise when he found Tony sprawled on the couch with a bottle of Jack Daniels firmly gripped in one hand and a framed photograph clutched in the other. Littering the floor in front of him were not only his empty Starbucks coffee cup but also several pizza boxes and at least a six pack’s worth of empty beer bottles. To put it mildly, the room was a mess - except for the glass and chrome metal coffee table sitting in front of the couch. Centered perfectly on its clear surface was a newspaper and the remnants of a faded bow. One look at the bow and Jethro knew exactly why the front door knocker was in the shape it was.

Ignoring Tony for the moment, he hunkered down and concentrated his attention on the newspaper, quickly scanning the headlines. The lead article and accompanying photo was about a local fireman that had been killed in action in the war in Iraq. The man's face looked vaguely familiar and Jethro scoured his memory for a clue. This fireman, this - Jethro checked the article for a name - this Jeff Stanfield had something to do with Tony, and for one reason or another his mind was refusing to cooperate on the how and why.

Tony solved the mystery with five simple words.

"Jeff and I were lovers."

Instantly solidifying in his mind was the image of Tony and Jeff sitting together holding hands. They had been in the audience of people watching a movie ex-wife number three had dragged him to in an attempt to rekindle a flame that had been dead and buried the day he signed his name to the divorce papers. Jethro remembered it hadn't been too long after that fortuitous sighting that Tony, while riding shotgun with him during a long road trip, had, without prompting, confessed his sexuality. Tony had also felt compelled, for some reason, to inform Jethro that he and Jeff had ended their relationship; and even though Jethro wasn't quite sure why the two men had parted ways, he did remember feeling a tad bit relieved that Tony was free and clear of any emotional attachments.

As if reading his thoughts, Tony filled in the blanks. "Jeff was Army Reserve and just couldn't deal with being military and being gay. I guess you could say he went back in the closet after a run in with a group of queer bashing Jarheads, no offense to you, Boss." Taking a long draw on the whiskey bottle, he kept his gaze pinned to the photograph in his hand. "We stayed good friends despite everything and when his unit got called up, I was there for him, seeing him off and all."

The ex-cop gave a brittle laugh before holding out the whiskey bottle to Jethro. "Wanna hear something ironic?" Tony frowned when his offer of libation was declined. Shrugging, he took another swallow and continued on somewhat bemusedly, "Jeff met someone while over in Iraq. Some guy named Lance from Houston." He looked up and shook his head. "Don'tcha think that's fucking ironic?"

Even though he couldn't see the tears, Jethro could definitely hear them in Tony's voice, and he quickly moved to the couch, taking a seat beside his young lover and gently gripping his knee. "When was the last time you communicated with Jeff?"

Tony laid his head on the back of the couch and stared up at the ceiling. "That's just it . . . ." Dropping the photograph on the cushion beside him, he tucked the whiskey bottle between his legs and turned his tortured gaze on Jethro. "That's just it. I haven't talked to him. Got all wrapped up in you, in us and . . . ." Tony sought shelter, and Jethro was more than happy to pull him into an embrace. "Dear God forgive me but . . . I forgot him, Jethro. I forgot all about him being over there."

Jethro tangled his fingers in Tony's hair and protectively cradled his head, tucking it beneath his chin. He could feel the man's anguish as if it were his own, and he desperately wished he knew the right words to say that would ease Tony's emotional torment. Words, the kind of words that would heal a wounded heart, were not his forte, and he wisely kept his mouth shut. Instead, he comforted Tony with his touch - holding him close, pressing soft kisses to his forehead and rubbing a hand up and down his back in what he hoped was a soothing manner.

"I didn't mean to forget," Tony confessed in a hushed voice heavy with self-condemnation. "I was just so happy about you finally succumbing to my charms and admitting you loved me that time just slipped away. And now, now it's too late."

Tony's fingers bit into his biceps, and Jethro grunted slightly, knowing without a doubt that he would be sporting a recognizable set of bruises by late afternoon. "Ease up on that grip, DiNozzo."

Without hesitation, Tony did as he was instructed but went one step further and pulled completely away. He returned to his corner of the couch and sought a different type of comfort, a Southern type of comfort by the name of Jack Daniels. Wiping his mouth clean after taking a hearty gulp, he mumbled, "Sorry, Boss. Didn't mean to dump all that shit on ya. I'll go get cleaned up and be into work in a jiffy."

Jethro watched Tony stumble into the bathroom, and he cursed every step that took his lover away from him. No wonder his three wives had left him - he was such an asshole when it came to dealing with people's emotions. Tony was hurting, torn up with grief and all he could do was complain about being held too tight.

Hauling his butt off the couch, Jethro followed after Tony, stopping just short of the bathroom door and listening to the quiet sobbing going on inside. The sound was nearly his undoing, and without a second thought to the consequences, he stripped off his clothes, opened the door and stepped inside the shower.

Jethro pulled Tony into his arms and held the weeping man in a gentle embrace, once again, taking the coward's way out and allowing his touch to speak the words his vocabulary could not supply. He kept a hold on Tony until the water began to turn lukewarm, and with a soft kiss to his lips, hurriedly bathed his limp body. Cutting off the water, he then carefully guided his silent companion out of the shower and efficiently dried the two of them off.

"Let's get you to bed," he said huskily.

Tony's grief stricken gaze was beginning to take its toll, and Jethro felt compelled to stay with his lover, offering whatever solace he could, no matter how long it took. Tony was his priority now - not the job. Jethro grinned, waiting for the lightening to strike. WORK was taking a back seat; he could only imagine the number of former co-workers rolling over in their graves.

His grin deteriorated into a frown. Graves. Thank God his brain had locked down his mouth. Not exactly the most appropriate thought to be having at this moment. B for bastard. Yeah, that was him to a T.

Shaking his head in self condemnation, Jethro tucked Tony under the covers before detouring back into the hallway. He grabbed his pants and retrieved his cellphone, leaving a brief message with Kate's voice mail, informing her that both he and Tony would be out until further notice.

"Let her profile that," he said as he tossed his cell on the pile of clothes on the floor. Hurrying back into the bedroom, Jethro slid in beside Tony and spent the next few minutes kissing and caressing the exhausted man's chilled torso. A quiet lassitude was about to overtake him when he heard Tony speak.

"Boss, would you . . . I mean . . . do you think it'd be . . . ." Tony hid his face in the crook of Jethro’s neck and shoulder. "Forget it," he mumbled.

Jethro hated the way Tony called him 'Boss' when they were alone but now was not the time to correct him. Sliding his fingers into Tony's damp hair, he exerted just enough pressure to make him to look up. "Talk to me, DiNozzo. I'm not going anywhere."

Intertwining their hands together, Tony pressed a kiss to his chest and nervously asked, "Would you mind . . . would you mind if I told you about Jeff? He was really a great guy, and I think even you would've liked him."

"Is that so?"

Jethro gripped Tony's hand and tugged until he was lying partially on top of him. A feeling of utter peace took hold of his heart when Tony settled his weight down upon him, and Jethro couldn't help but share a satisfied grin with the lazily spinning ceiling fan above his head. This was where he belonged, here with Tony, learning everything he could about the intriguing young man he had come to love.

"Go ahead, Tony, I've got all day. Tell me about Jeff."

Snuggling as close as possible, Tony let out a contented sigh and said quietly, "Jeff loved pickles. Now, I know you're asking yourself what's so interesting about that. Have you ever tried eating one slathered with strawberry jam? Let me tell you something, it's . . . ."

 

~finis~

[You can find me on Tumblr!](http://angelise7.tumblr.com/)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These are the notes that went with the original posting of this story . . . .
> 
> I hope you recognized the true moral of this story.
> 
> PLEASE, PLEASE do not forget our men and women serving overseas. Replace those faded yellow ribbons, folks. Remember why you bought them and why you're still flying that American flag you hung from your front porch. No matter what your politics are, take a moment today to remember those who have made the pledge to serve and protect our country, wherever they may be stationed.
> 
> Never forget.
> 
> This story was written in honor of a friend's son who served in the war in Iraq. Jeff was injured in the fall of 2004 and after he recovered from his wound, insisted on returning to his unit. Three months later he was killed attempting to rescue a fallen comrade.
> 
> We shall never forget his sacrifice.
> 
>  
> 
> [Fallen Hero](http://www.militarycity.com/valor/556365.html)


	2. Remembered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jethro lends Tony his support on Memorial Day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Consider this a sequel to my story, ‘Not Forgotten.’ More importantly, know that this piece honors the many men and women who have dedicated their lives to protect the freedoms we so casually take for granted. It is a sacrifice that should *never* be forgotten.

Yawning, Gibbs stretched his arms over his head. His body was aching in places it had no business aching, but luckily it was a soreness he enjoyed beyond belief. The person responsible for his early morning aches and pains had been abusing him for a total of 12 months now, and Gibbs secretly hoped the abuse would continue until he was old and completely gray.

He turned on his side, an honest, joyful smile taking shape as he reached for the man he loved with each and every beat of his heart.

“Tony?”

His query was met with silence, his hand with empty space.

“Tony?”

Opening his eyes, Gibbs levered up on one elbow and worriedly examined the spot his young lover normally inhabited. The mattress still bore the indentation of his body while the sheet, unfortunately, was cold to touch. It informed him that Tony had been gone for some time.

A splash of color caught his eye. Gibbs halted his tactile exploration of the spot that had cradled the luscious twin mounds of flesh his manhood had plundered hours earlier. Lifting his gaze he frowned in confusion when he saw the miniature flag lying on Tony’s pillow.

“What the---”

Gibbs ripped away the sheet tangled around his legs and vacated the bed. He pulled on a pair of discarded sweats before going in search of his missing lover. After a quick trip to the bathroom to relieve his complaining bladder, he went directly to the kitchen and heaved a loud sigh of frustration when he saw the dormant state of his coffeemaker.

He contemplated the empty pot for a full minute before his frown of annoyance turned into a grin of blatant lust. Shortly after they’d moved in together Tony had discovered that a caffeine-depraved lover was absolutely no fun at all. Without any prompting at all, he’d willingly assumed the task of preparing the coffeemaker before they retired for the night. Rarely did he fail in his self-assigned task and when he did it was more than likely not his fault.

Gibbs tapped the visible bite mark on his left pectoral. Tony’s lapse of concentration had definitely been his fault last night. It went without saying that his lover’s mind had been thoroughly distracted by the insatiable mouth inhaling his dick.

“You’re forgiven, DiNozzo,” he mumbled, “this time.”

Opening the freezer door, Gibbs searched for a fresh pack of coffee beans. He collected the cellophane-wrapped container and upon closing the door, caught sight of the calendar tacked to the wall beside the fridge. He noted the date.

“Ah, hell. I’m an ass. A complete and total ass.”

Gibbs jerked open the freezer door and threw the pack of coffee beans back inside. The door was then slammed shut with enough force to dislodge one of the many magnets Tony collected.

Gibbs stared at the magnet. It had landed face up, displaying the photograph of two naked men glued to its surface. The embracing couple reminded him of Tony and himself. It also reminded him of the reason his lover was missing in action.

Leaving the magnet where it lay on the floor, Gibbs hurried back to the bathroom. Exactly ten minutes later he was standing half-naked in the bedroom, digging through the clothes in his closet. He bypassed the frayed t-shirts and jeans he normally wore on his days off and reached for the uniform he reserved for the more somber moments of his life.

He was almost out the door when he remembered the memento Tony had left behind. He turned smartly on his heel and returned to the bedroom. The miniature flag was collected and carefully tucked inside an interior pocket of his jacket.

“You had no business leaving me behind, DiNozzo. We’re a team. In everything.”

  
+++++++

 

Gibbs cursed the increased number of people crowding the sidewalks. He understood their presence but that knowledge did not halt the offensive words of impatience that sprung to mind every time his pathway was blocked. Finding his lover was his main objective and those who prevented him from reaching his goal were declared impediments and dispatched with the barest of civility.

“Move it or lose it,” he ordered a wide-eyed preschooler dressed in child-designed fatigues. The boy was toting a poster with the image of a larger-than-life soldier drawn on it. He and the younger sister he was holding hands with quickly vacated the sidewalk. The look of grief-stricken confusion directed at him by their mother sidetracked him, and he stopped to mumble an apology.

“Sorry.” Reaching in his pocket, he collected the small flag and handed it to the young boy. With a salute, he instructed, "Carry on, soldier."

Resuming his trek, Gibbs took a little more care weaving his way in and out of the crowds, often consulting the map he’d obtained upon his arrival. His patience was wearing thin by the time he located the section he and Tony had visited six months ago. Setting his foot upon the correct path he noted the sun had finally broken free of the horizon. The light that spilled across the perfectly manicured lawn and its inhabitants caused him pause, and he stopped to utter a brief prayer.

The second his prayer was concluded he opened his eyes, and the first person his gaze lit upon was his lover. Tony was standing directly in front of him, dressed in his best Armani suit. In his left hand, the one that bore the physical proof of their commitment to each other, was a single red rose. Gibbs felt his throat tighten with emotion as he watched Tony lean down and tenderly place the delicate bloom upon the simple, unadorned grave marker. The white marble headstone was engraved with the name of the man that had once laid claim to his lover’s heart.

_Jeff Stanfield._

Gibbs silently took his place beside Tony. He raised his white-gloved hand and sharply saluted the grave. Maintaining his self-imposed silence, he then took possession of Tony’s hand and squeezed it hard. Without hesitation his demonstration of support was returned with equal strength.

“Thanks, Jethro,” Tony whispered. “Thanks for coming.”

Glancing sideways at his lover, Gibbs cleared his throat. “Jeff’s not forgotten, Tony.” He indicated the countless graves scattered throughout the renowned Arlington Cemetery. “None of them are forgotten.”

 

~finis~

 

[You can find me on Tumblr!](http://angelise7.tumblr.com/)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess you could say I'm passionate about my support for the men and women of the military! You guys and gals ROCK!


End file.
